Christina in China

More quotes.  Here we are:

“The more often [a person] feels without acting, the less he will be able ever to act, and, in the long run, the less he will be able to feel.” -C. S. Lewis

“I’ve found that it’s relatively easy to raise a voice in protest, but unfathomably hard to invest in a life.”

and also…

“When did you last spend time with a poor person, an at-risk individual, or someone in need? When was the last time you were close to them for an extended period? I ask, because that’s what Jesus did. He was close to the poor who needed justice. The Messiah was sent to preach Good News to the poor, to proclaim freedom for prisoners, recovery of sight for the blind, release for the oppressed, and the arrival of the Jubilee year (Luke 4:18-19). He did this first by becoming incarnate, one of us. He did not commute from heaven in a fiery chariot. “The Word became flesh,” says John, “and made his dwelling among us.

In urban ministry circles, we call this relocation. Many urban ministers intentionally live in the neighborhoods they seek to serve. Proximity builds trust with neighbors, especially if a racial divide must be crossed. Relocation also helps urban ministers discern the roots of need. A man may ask me every day for money. He’s down and out, he says. But if I live in that community, I’ll be able to discern if he is down and out because of systemic injustice or because he does not want to work. Then I’ll be able to share with him what he truly needs.

People in need of justice are not just in the inner city. Individuals and families are struggling in suburban and rural settings as well. In many cases, you do not need to relocate in order to meet a need. But when working for justice, it is crucial to have personal proximity to injustice.

Up close, the protest-oriented injustice-fighter may discover that some matters are best settled by a personal intervention, not a new law. The personal-responsibility injustice-fighter may discover that impersonal systems often devastate the lives of the poor, and that these systems must indeed be protested.

In either case, the best way to get closer to doing justice for the poor is, quite simply, to get closer.”

-Rudy Carrasco, from this article

 

I’ve been looking at some Master’s degree programs recently, some in peace studies/conflict resolution and some in international or urban economic development.  And I’ve also been thinking so much about the importance of dwelling together with people.  With actually knowing people, not just knowing about them or their problems.  Or how to “fix” their problems.  The longer I live, the more I don’t think protesting is the answer.  I think it can be a solution to some problems.  But I feel like I have to root myself in relationship…

I’ve also been thinking about hospitality.  What does it mean?  What is good hospitality?  In the Bamboo Sea (in Yibin, southern Sichuan) this weekend, my students’ families bought me gifts.  Way too many gifts, in my opinion.  They stuffed me with food, delicious food, and toasted me constantly.  They bought my tickets to sights and took me to eat local food.  They washed my clothes when they were dirty, and, heck, bought me a pair of underwear and a towel without being asked, because they thought I might need it.  I was in the honored laoshi role (and, for the record, it makes me more than a bit uncomfortable to get this many gifts) and definitely couldn’t take all of this for more than about five days.  To these families, I was doing a huge favor by teaching their kids English. 

China isn’t always this over-the-top.  But there’s a definite sense of hospitality, that I often find wonderful and sometimes find incredibly fatiguing.  Of the fact that people don’t need to call–they can just drop in.  Another bowl and pair of chopsticks will be found.  Tea or hot water will be poured, fruit or some little snack (if it’s there) will be given.  I’ve also been reading a book Tommy Warf gave me before I came to China, about four guys that traveled the world supporting local Christians.  It’s good.  More evangelical than the stuff I normally read but good.  A big theme of the book is about this, about community and hospitality and what that means.  Things that I know are important but that I don’t quite know what they are yet….And yet it’s on my mind, these thoughts.  Of ministering beside, thoughts that I started having sophomore year with my international lit class and kept having throughout talks with MCCers, short times in Buffalo during my Houghton time, time with the kids at church, a couple memorable chapel talks at Houghton, Menno Groupers, and now through books and life.

Where will I be in ten years?  Perhaps not in the middle-class suburbs, not that there’s anything wrong with that.  Will I have the chance to be serving overseas somewhere?  Or maybe in the inner-city or rural communities (I’ve also been thinking a lot about rural Appalachia and “my roots” of late)?  Who knows.

Sorry.  All this rambling.  Later, I promise I’ll tell stories about all the bamboo, toasting, and food of this weekend…

Yup, that’s right. No guilt about not blogging. I do, however, have some guilt about not emailing/writing more often. Maybe there will be letters written during my time in Yibin. Does this mean that I’m depraved and past the point of conviction? Maybe. Hugh said the other day that he had two months left in China, which means that I have about three.

I’ve been proctoring exams with Mrs. Lai, who’s taken every opportunity to teach me Chinese, asking me to describe students’ pencil cases, telling me about the college entrance exams here (which are big-time, that’s another post). As we walk back, I carry the umbrella to keep our faces from getting tanned (ah, China), and she links her arm with mine. I feel a sense of importance, walking with Lai Laoshi, who is a venerated presence around here. But the reason I admire her is because she treats everyone with this same sense of importance.

Amidst all this, the travel plans have been formed for my May holiday (a 7 1/2 day vacation we have). I’m going to the Bamboo Sea in Yibin, now not only with Joan but also with a girl named Alisa, who I barely know and who’s been calling me every day wanting to tell me new details about travel arrangements. She seems very nervous. The other day, Petrel found me and said that she wants to come, too, that she has enough money. At first I was taken aback, but then I thought this was a good idea. Petrel is usually anything but nervous with me and is this gloriously rare source of randomness. (“Do heaven and hell have ice?” she asked me yesterday during Sleepless in Seattle. “I don’t know,” I told her. “Probably not.”) But Petrel says she’s afraid of calling these girls and had been putting it off because she thinks they’ll say no. Meanwhile, I’m getting nagged by Yibin students about buying tickets.

The weather’s officially short-sleeved weather, with blue skies most every day. I shaved my legs and am wearing a skirt. It makes me feel pretty and feminine, even though I’m constantly being told to fold it up so that it won’t drag on the ground (by my auntie).

I just read an article on Yahoo news about how gas is now up to $2.93 in most cities in the U.S. (average price). Um, is it possible to express how much I don’t want to deal with the hassle of a car again? I swear, I’m buying a bike and taking buses or something when I get back. I hate the fact that I’m going to be chained to an expensive machine that always breaks and costs lots of money to maintain and keep up, etc. Not to mention stinking $3 for gas. I should be grateful. My students all dream of having cars, but I just don’t like it, except for convenience. “The car is an isolating capsule,” I read the other day in an article that I agree with.

I’ve decided that in a year, I am no expert on China. I don’t pretend to be, just like I’m not an expert on anything. But when I get home, I have to tell people something. I have to write something. So I am going to write stories, stories about the people here, about my impressions of them. Hopefully to be accompanied by pictures. That’s all I can pretend to know, I think, even a part of.

To risk sounding like a feeling-sorry-for-myself whiner, today was a crappy day.  Crappy in that my not-knowing-what-to-say-in-Chinese-ness feels like it's out in full force this week.  Crappy in that I got a bunch of the, "Ta ting bu dong!" ("She ... [Continue reading this entry]

To risk sounding like a feeling-sorry-for-myself whiner, today was a crappy day.  Crappy in that my not-knowing-what-to-say-in-Chinese-ness feels like it's out in full force this week.  Crappy in that I got a bunch of the, "Ta ting bu dong!" ("She ... [Continue reading this entry]

This is a quote I got from another blog--the blog of a SALTer in Egypt.  She was writing about a party she was at with a lot of Egyptian Muslim men, breaking down stereotypes, the fact that we get our ... [Continue reading this entry]

I told somebody in my host family community the other day that I was here to learn about their culture, and they laughed and said they didn't have any culture.  Translation: Culture equals education, learning, knowing to read well, knowledge ... [Continue reading this entry]

This weekend, Julie, a friend from Chongqing and CEE pastoral care person came to visit. I'm sure it was memorable for her because she got to have rice porridge at my host family's house this morning and take pictures ... [Continue reading this entry]

This was an article recently printed on British newspaper The Guardian's online site.  It is, incidentally, about Chongqing, a municipality very near Sichuan Province, which, according to the article, now has a population bigger than Peru or Iraq (and adds ... [Continue reading this entry]

The Chinese above = possibly butchered.  (Supposed to mean "A little busy/hardworking.") Today's one of those days in which I planned it out this morning, in 45-minute increments.  5 periods.  Lesson prep during my breaks.  Home for dinner quickly, then back ... [Continue reading this entry]

(Wow, all these blogs!  I'm finally finishing all the blogs I've had saved and hadn't finished before.  Who knows why?)  I may have written this before.  I know I've said it. When I was in college, Elizabeth Weaver told me that I ... [Continue reading this entry]